Earnest Civil Servants
by InspirationPoint
Summary: Post-ep for "By Perjury." Cutter and Rubirosa talk about the events of that day. Might they learn of their feelings for one another during their chat? Mike/Connie.


**Title: Earnest Civil Servants**

**Rating: M for language and sexual situations later on. **

**Characters: Mike/Connie**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Dick Wolf does.**

**A/N: First fanfic ever! Please be kind and review… I hope I do the characters justice. Especially with all the other writers here giving us great looks into the minds and actions of Cutter and Rubirosa, my new favorite pairing.**

"Here's to earnest civil servants."

Jack McCoy and Mike Cutter clinked together their glasses of scotch, relieved that Cutter had escaped the attempted murder on his life unharmed. McCoy knew these things came with the job. It wasn't too long ago that Detectives Green and Fontana had whisked himself away when a threat on his life had surfaced. And of course there was Kincaid and Borgia. Two of his former ADAs, struck down violently in very different ways. He could never forget how their lives had ended, under his watch. He couldn't bear to lose another colleague because of the job. McCoy swallowed his drink and reached again for the bottle.

"You know, Jack, I've never had my life flash before my eyes like that. Not even when I was hit by a line-drive that knocked me on my ass in college." Cutter held out his empty glass before McCoy, accepting another refill. "I'm sure that sounds pretty cliché, but damn, when the gun went off, I could see clear as day my second grade school teacher, Miss Larson, giving me a gold star in spelling, and my parents waving to me as I left for prom, and then my law school graduation."

Cutter shook his head, thinking of what he omitted telling Jack. Connie Rubirosa had been in that flash, towards the end, but there all the same. From the year or so that they had been working together, he had seen in his mind's eye all the little things he admired about her. He thought of her intelligence, her loving character, her compassion for victims, and her stunning beauty which seemed to radiate from the inside. He could go on and on and never run out of praise for her. Cutter knew then that his feelings for Connie would not be going away anytime soon.

Jack smirked, "Nothing like the sound of a gun to see your life clearly. Any regrets?"

Mike nodded and knocked back the drink, the liquid burning down his throat and loosening his tongue. "Oh yeah, regrets." He grinned, showing his dimples. "I've had a few."

The DA and his exec talked until the bottle was dry.

****

Mike found himself sprawled on the couch in his office, tie nowhere to be found, and a smattering of drool on his mouth. He got up groggily, holding his head, and rubbing the stiffness from his neck.

_Okay, what happened? Last thing I remember was Jack offering to call me a cab, but then I waved him off, saying I had paperwork from the Winston case to catch up on. Winston...gun...What the hell had I been thinking with this case? Damn that Marty Winston, defense litigator from Hell, my evil twin. Why did he push all my buttons? How could I have let him get to me like that? _

Mike moved towards his desk, searching for his BlackBerry, and thinking of how Winston's greed for the ultimate payday led to his downfall. _Three new messages. _ Mike listened to his voicemails; Connie had been trying to reach him for hours. He could hear the worry in her voice.

After the shooting at the courthouse, Connie had walked with Mike to their offices and had sequestered herself away at her desk for most of the afternoon. She had been quiet, but mentioned to Mike that she was glad that he was all right. Connie had left for her home soon after. Something was off with her; he just couldn't put his finger on it.

****

Connie heard the phone ringing from her kitchen where she was cleaning up the remnants of her late take-out dinner. She dashed for her cell, hoping that it was Mike calling, telling her that he was OK. It wasn't like him to miss a phone call. That BlackBerry of his seemed to always be attached to his hand.

"Hello?"

"Connie, it's Mike."

She sighed at her relief, hearing his voice on the line. She had left him messages earlier, concerned that the day's events had affected him adversely. Connie knew she should have stayed at the office, just in case Mike needed her, but she had been stunned and a little shocked at what had happened. Mike had been shot at. He could have died in the men's bathroom, and he would have never known her feelings towards him. Sure, she knew better than to think about her boss in anything but a professional capacity, but she couldn't help it or stop it, for that matter.

"Hey, I was worried about you."

"Me? Don't go all soft on me Connie; I might get my hopes up, even in my drunken state." She could hear him softly slurring his words. Connie couldn't help but shake her head at him over the phone. He was plastered and yet hitting on her.

"Mike, how drunk _are_ you?"

"I slept it off here at the office, really. I'm fine."

Connie could tell from his 'fine,' that he wasn't really 'fine.'

"Why don't you get a cab and stop over? We didn't really get a chance to talk about things today. I could make some coffee."

Mike couldn't resist her offer of coffee and conversation. "Thanks, Connie. I'll be over in a few."

Connie hung up, wondering what came over her. _We've only had drinks together once, and even then Jack was there. Was it too bold a proposition, inviting Mike over to chat? No, we're colleagues and friends. There's nothing inappropriate. Just suck it up, Connie. Yes, Mike is a very attractive man, but he's only coming over to talk about his near-death experience. That's what friends do, talk. Talking is all that's going to happen between us, ever._

****

Mike was in a cab, heading uptown to Connie's after retrieving her address from his contact list. He had enough sense to grab the leftover sandwich from his desk that he had had no appetite to eat earlier in the day. His stomach was clamoring for food and he eagerly wolfed down his meal. His liver was thanking him as well.

The cab pulled up to her building and Mike pulled his coat closer as he stepped out in the frigid December air. He wondered if this was a good idea. Mike hadn't exactly spilled his guts to Jack even with the alcohol, but he thought of Connie and her warm, tender ways; her thoughtfulness and caring. If one smidgeon of that was directed towards him, she might learn of all of his inner feelings. And she would be his undoing.

After Connie verified who was downstairs, Mike rode the elevator to her floor, becoming more nervous as he walked down the hall to her door. He wasn't sure what to expect when he saw her. He gave the door three soft knocks and waited patiently.

A few seconds later, she opened the door and there she stood, smiling in jeans and a dark v-neck sweater. He smiled back.

"Come on in, the coffee's brewing. Let me take your coat."

"Thanks." He stepped inside and handed her the garment. "Nice place." Mike noticed the small fire burning in the living room's fireplace. There was a kitchen off to the side, and a hallway in the opposite direction, probably leading to the bedroom and bath. Small, but cozy.

"Make yourself at home. If you want, you can put on some music. The stereo's in the corner by the window. I'll get the coffee." She veered off to the kitchen, while he took in the details of her life.

Mike admired the pictures on her walls; he knew she came from a big family and that they were very important in her life. He wandered to a side table and picked up the picture she had used in one of their cases from last year. Connie was a sophomore in the picture, hugging a big dog, a yellow lab. She was happy and carefree, stunning even. Mike had mentioned during the case that he might have had a chance with her then, but she hadn't acknowledged his remark. He caressed the face in the frame and put it down.

_What am I thinking? She's way out of my league. God, she could be a supermodel if she ever left the legal profession. I should be happy she doesn't file a sexual harassment suit every time something stupid like that compliment comes out of my mouth. _

Mike stepped in front of the stereo and glanced through her CD collection. Obviously, she had been resisting technology and MP3s since some of her albums had been recently released. He found some light rock, U2, and put on one of their earlier albums. He felt an immediate calming when he heard the strains of the song _Zoo Station_ fill the room. Mike closed his eyes, but then they sprang open when he heard her voice over his shoulder.

"I love this one. My favorite is _Love is Blindness_, though. Here you go." She handed him a mug full of the hot liquid, and went to sit on the couch. He followed her and sat on the opposite end, leaving an appropriate amount of space between them. She toasted, "Here's to the heroes, Bernard and Lupo, for thinking straight and saving you."

He raised his mug as well and smiled, "To Bernard and Lupo, earnest civil servants indeed." They cautiously sipped. An awkward silence seemed to settle, and Connie did her best to break the ice to get Mike talking. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Mike released the breath he'd been holding and decided keeping his thoughts to himself would only hurt him in the long run, especially when Connie was trying to make an effort to help him. "I guess I was just thinking about today. I mean, I've gotten threats before, who hasn't when you work in the DA's office? But it's never been so real, so close. Winston had the gun in my face and I froze. He had me right where he wanted me and I couldn't think, act. It all happened so fast. He pulled the trigger, I heard the gunshot, and I thought 'this is how I'm going to die.' My life, my family and friends, my regrets were stretched out before me. I don't know how the detectives thought to follow him into the restroom, but thank God they did."

Mike gulped down his drink, his cheeks feeling hot with the combination of his outpouring of emotions and the temperature of the coffee. He could see Connie out of the corner of his eye, listening to him patiently, and expressing her alarm at the details of his story. He wasn't a man to go on and on about himself or his experiences, but with Connie he felt at ease. She knew when to prod him, when to listen, and above all, to empathize and comfort him, like a friend would.

She drank from her cup, and placed it on the table in front of them. "Mike, I'm so glad they did, too. I didn't want to have to break in another Exec ADA in two years," she joked and got the grin from him she'd been hoping for.

He looked at her slyly and said, "Your concern for my welfare is touching, you know. I just might have to tell Jack what a caring ADA he has working for him."

"And why do you have to tell Jack that?"

"Oh, you know Connie, just in case he finds me with blows from a baseball bat, he won't automatically suspect you, because you're oh, so caring." She laughed at his response, imaging the scenario: Mike and herself arguing a case and she becoming so fed up with him, that she'd go to town on him with his own baseball bat! Actually, that wasn't a bad idea, in moderation.

"Seriously though, Mike, I would have missed you and the good you do working for the DA. I don't think I've ever worked with anyone so passionate about the truth and justice for the victims, Jack included. " He tried to shrug off her words as an anxious co-worker, and not the words of a woman who he cared for immensely.

"Thank you, Connie; that means a lot, really." He looked into her eyes, and very gently grasped the hand that was closest to him. He wanted to convey his sincere gratitude for her words of kindness. "I was telling Jack earlier what happened, and I remember mentioning the regrets in my life."

"What kind of regrets?" He let go of her hand, and also put down his coffee cup. "Oh, the standard ones I guess. Should I have gone to law school like I did or try harder at a career in baseball? Or how I've not told those I care about, how I really feel. I don't know, silly aren't I?"

Connie impulsively slid closer, and grabbed his hand in hers. "That's not silly at all. I would think it's normal to have those kinds of thoughts at that terrifying moment. I don't know about you, but I would be sort of grateful for that clarifying thought—what I need to do to rectify my life would suddenly be clear to me. Maybe it's a good thing you found this out now so that you can do something about it."

He felt her hands upon his, and he thought he might drown in the warm sea of her eyes, as he looked at her. Mike brought her polished nails to his lips and kissed her right hand, very tenderly. Connie blushed as she looked at him, her breathing becoming light and shallow. Mike let go, reluctantly, as she reciprocated his actions by placing a small kiss on his cheek. She leaned back towards her side of the couch as he placed his hand over where her lips had been mere seconds before.

"…_so you can do something about it." Was she giving him a signal? He felt like he was in high school all over again, like he'd never kissed a girl before. Why was this so hard? Because, idiot, love was never easy. Love. God, I do love her._

Connie surprised him by moving off the couch and reaching for their mugs. "I'll get us some more, wait right here." "Okay."

He watched her retreat to the kitchen, with her words repeating again and again in his head, do something about it. Mike heeded her sage words and went to join her in the kitchen. Connie had poured their refills and was bent over, dispensing the cream and sugar. He came up behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder. He felt her jump a tad, but then he could see her eyes close in her reflection at the kitchen window. It gave him courage to continue. "Connie, I want you to know how much you do mean to me, as a co-worker, and a friend, and hopefully as something more."

She turned around to face him at hearing his words, his hand dropping from her. "Mike, I…"

"Please just hear me out. I know that you are way out of my league, but after today, I feel like I've been given a second chance. I don't want to waste that chance. Connie, please…"

He never finished his sentence as Connie brushed her lips against his, moving them slowly, testing out the waters so to speak. Mike could feel the unbearable softness of her lips, taste the dark smokiness of the Arabica beans, and the fruitiness of her lip gloss. He was like a hummingbird after her sweet nectar; he knew he could never satiate his thirst for her kiss again.

Connie wound her hands through his hair, bringing his mouth and body closer to hers. He backed her up against the counter, and kissed her deeper, sliding his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth. She relished the feel of his tongue, feeling the strong muscle duel with her own. She felt his arms steel around her waist, wending their way up her back and to the back of her head. She couldn't get enough of his kiss. Connie opened her eyes to try to burn the memory of this moment into her mind.

Mike couldn't believe she was kissing him. And it was better than he could have ever imagined. His hands dug into her hair, as he pressed his body closer to hers. She gasped as more and more contact was made between their two bodies. He swallowed her gasps and moans into a searing kiss that made her knees tremble.

He pulled away, needing air, but also needing her. Mike moved towards her neck, kissing her with all the passion he'd kept under wraps for as long as he'd known her. "Mike, oh, yes…" Connie couldn't help but throw her head back to give him better access. She had never been kissed this way before. She felt beautiful in his eyes. Mike switched to the other side of her graceful column, with Connie holding his head tightly in her hands. "Oh God, right there, yes." He couldn't stay away from her luscious mouth, and so kissed her again, murmuring in a gravelly voice, "Connie, Connie, you're so beautiful. Let me love you. Connie."


End file.
